


Adored and Explored

by bravinto



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Belly Kink, Body Image, Body Worship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Stuffing, a little bit of, and also some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6768484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravinto/pseuds/bravinto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Karen, why is Foggy upset?”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“They say he can’t wear crop tops.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“I’m upset because of institutionalized fatphobia, beauty standards and the overemphasized importance of the latter.”</i>
</p><p>or how even if you are confident and chill, you still may need a little reassurance when the beach season approaches</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adored and Explored

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freefall_through_fandom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freefall_through_fandom/gifts).



> my giftee asked for some chubby love with fluff, caring, and possibly smut, so I tried to include it all! I hope it delivers :D
> 
> this is set in some happy limbo where Nelson&Murdock is all together ;A;  
> thanks to decadent_mousse for beta-reading! <3

Foggy didn’t mean to get upset. Not like he ever planned to get upset; it’s just it was such a nice day, otherwise. The spring sun was shining warm through his freshly cleaned office window, casting cheerful sparkly reflections all over his desk and stationery. The work for the day was almost done, and the current cases looked promising of fortunate outcome and even profit. 

The point is, he was in a good mood, looking forward to a pleasant evening, enjoying the thought of a hot summer soon to come, and just generally feeling upbeat. Maybe they’ll be able to get away for a long weekend, go to the seaside somewhere, he thought as he browsed through the last of his work-related files. He’ll need to ask his mom if there’s a relative somewhere by the sea, willing to rent out a cottage or a cheap room to the small staff of their practice. There’s got to be. There is always a Nelson for everything.

When he had nothing left to do (he had promised to wait for Matt to discuss the information he had gone fishing for at their client’s office, which involved talking to her colleagues but mostly eavesdropping), Foggy decided to look up fashion ideas for summer, because his swim- and beachwear wardrobe was pitifully outdated. If he wanted to be the star of the seaside, he should buy something new. Like maybe some sandals. And a crop top. He was definitely feeling like getting a crop top.

He found nice models (intending to get cheap off-brand analogs later or maybe hunt for something similar around thrift stores), but for some reason every damn article on crop tops seemed hellbent on policing who could and who could not wear them. There was that obligatory paragraph, warning about the horrors of showing you Problem Areas and Horrifying Belly Fat Of Doom to the world. Foggy rolled his eyes at first, but after a while it started to really bum him out. But it was scrolling down to the comment section ( _ I envy you, thin girls! _ \- someone wrote. -  _ I can’t ever wear this with my size 10! _ ) that finally made him shut his laptop. Luckily for his budget, he didn’t have Matt’s habit of throwing appliances to the ground when he was frustrated, but it was a close call.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he shouted, taking it out on his chair instead, legs scraping on the floor as he pushed back from the desk and got up.

Karen was concerned when he appeared from his office.

“Foggy, everything alright?” she asked. 

She looked so good in the sunshine, her hair glowing and the bright blue of her eyes brought out by the color of her slim dress. That’s a figure good enough to wear crop tops, Foggy thought, and immediately felt very mean.

“Eh,” he said, deflating and settling on the edge of her table. “Sorry about that.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing much. I just ragequit the internet because it told me in no uncertain terms that I cannot wear crop tops or anything revealing ever.”

“Aww, Foggy,” she said and got up to stand beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You know that’s bullshit, right? You can wear whatever you want.”

“Yeah, I know, and I am now more determined to get a really obnoxious top than ever before, but still, I could do without random articles bodyshaming me,” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

That didn’t fool Karen.

“Who wrote that article?” she asked darkly.

“No, Karen,” he smiled, shaking his head, and fondness bloomed in his heart. “You can’t drag them all down. This poisonous mindset can only be fought with positive reinforcement and good example.”

“Then this is what we’ll do! This weekend I’m taking you shopping. We’ll get you the prettiest crop top the world has ever seen. We should take Matt, too, I think we all need a summer update.”

The prospect of trying on beach clothes in public together with Matthew “Abs To Shame Apollo” Murdock and Karen “Could Be A Model” Page was slightly daunting, but also very heart-warming.

“Will you let me buy a beach ball? We, as a respectable establishment, need to have a proper beach ball.”

“We’ll buy the beach ball. And flip-flops. If there’s a discount.”

They laughed, and Karen pulled him into a hug.

“For the record, you look extremely good,” she said into his shoulder. “Whatever you are wearing.”

“Even my huge sweater of self-pity?”

“One of my favorites. You look very cozy in it, Foggy Nelson.”

“Wow, flirting at your workplace, Ms Page?”

“What can I do? My boss is distractingly handsome.” 

She giggled and held him at arm’s length. Her smile was infectious.

“I feel much better,” he said. “Thank you, Karen.”

“Any time. I hate it when you are upset.”

There was a noise at the door.

“Why are you upset?”

Of course, Matt chose that exact moment to sneak in. He fumbled with the door a bit more than necessary and approached them. His face was wearing the same dark expression that Karen had on several minutes ago. 

“Karen, why is Foggy upset?”

“They say he can’t wear crop tops.”

“I’m upset,” Foggy chirped in, “because of institutionalized fatphobia, beauty standards and the overemphasized importance of the latter.”

“Has someone been mean to you?” Matt asked, voice dangerously low, crowding Foggy a little, like the overprotective creep he was, bless his heart.

“The internet in general. Nobody in particular,” Foggy tried to stress the second bit to make it clear to Matt that there was nobody to unleash the devil upon for this and that no, he couldn’t punch abstract concepts.

Knowing Matt, though, there was a chance he was gonna try anyway. 

  
  


That night he was dicking around on the internet and procrastinating going to bed when he heard a noise on the fire escape and then a familiar knock on the window. He hurried to open it, habitually praising God that Matt was alive and praying he wasn’t hurt too badly.

Judging by Daredevil’s bright smile, his prayers were answered.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep already?” Matt asked, the cheeky bastard.

“Shouldn’t  _ you _ ?” Foggy gave him a pointed look and narrated as much.

Matt climbed in through the window, letting the cool and adventurous spring night air in, and put an unlabeled white box he must have been carrying with him on the kitchen table.

“What’s that?” Foggy asked.

“It’s a thing I brought for you,” Matt said and smiled again, this time more teeth than before.

Foggy decided something was brewing up, and he needed to keep the handle on whatever the situation was turning out to be. 

“Okay,” he said firmly. “Let’s get your fetish gear off, first.”

Peeling off Matt’s suit was not as sexy as one could think. It usually involved undoing the hard to reach straps and zippers for him, pulling his boots off, and trying not to fall over in the process.

“Man, how do you even put it on by yourself?” Foggy asked, panting, when the job was done.

“With God’s help and a prayer,” Matt said seriously, but his eyes were laughing.

“Okay, you dork,” Foggy laughed. “Let’s see the damage report.”

The next part  - inspecting Matt’s head, body, and limbs for wounds thoroughly - was much more sensual, especially when he was uninjured beyond a couple of small bruises. Like tonight.

“What’s the verdict?”

“You’re hot,” Foggy said and kissed his shoulder. “That’s the verdict.”

 

After the Daredevil business was dealt with, Foggy went to open the box (it smelled delicious and sweet), but Matt stopped him, a gentle but firm hold, warm on Foggy’s wrist.

“I want to take care of you,” he breathed, leaning close, so close they were sharing air now. “Is it okay?”

He must have picked it up from him, Foggy thought, asking if doing this or that was okay. Turning a simple consent talk into an exciting part of foreplay (it was kind of Foggy’s specialty). Pretty quickly after they had started dating it became apparent that Matt wasn’t half as experienced as Foggy imagined him to be, getting flustered and worked up over the most innocent things. Exploring sexuality together was not just exciting, it also served as a good bonding experience for them. It made Foggy feel warm and fuzzy inside to see Matt pick up his quirks and small routines and use them on him in turn.

“Yeah. That’s okay, Matty,” he answered in kind. “What’s the plan?”

“I’ll show you in a moment,” Matt assured him, still hovering in his space.

“Lead the way, then.”

Matt gave him a fond look and led him to the bedroom. It seemed he was in the mood for the softer, slower lovemaking. He wouldn’t let Foggy undress, didn’t hungrily rip his clothes off, either. He took Foggy’s cardigan off gently and threw it onto a chair with ridiculous accuracy. His hands slipped under the hem of Foggy’s T-shirt (the soft red one Matt liked to steal but refused to take for good, insisting that Foggy needed to wear it from time to time, to renew the scent or something). The touch was a little cold, but in a good way, driving shivers up Foggy’s spine. Matt’s face lit up as his fingers followed the familiar pattern across his skin, as if he was revising what he had learned a thousand times before: palms flat over Foggy’s belly, sliding up and around his sides, groping at his hips, fingers going up his back and grazing the rolls there, finally settling over his shoulder blades and pulling Foggy close into a comfortable embrace and a kiss.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Foggy echoed when they came up for air after a while.

“Guilty,” Matt whispered, “of being too attractive.”

 

Very soon Foggy found himself sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt shamelessly rucked up, his pants undone, and Matt kneeled on the floor between his legs. Even if he wasn’t already excited, this arrangement alone would make his blood rush.

“Is it about today?” Foggy asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving this, but it’s alright, I’m not really upset anymore.”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Matt said, looking up at him, his face open, earnest and beautiful. “When there’s something you need to get over, it’s not easy. And when it gets dragged back up like that, it hurts. I know that. I just want to show you something different. How I feel. How  _ you  _ make me feel.”

Matt bumped his head into Foggy’s belly and rubbed his face against it, like an affectionate cat.

“I don’t really get beauty standards as they are, you know?” he continued after several kisses over Foggy’s bellybutton. “I don’t really understand how anyone can see you as anything but beautiful.”

“Beautiful is too strong a word,” Foggy said. “It’s more like a combination of confident, stylish and adorable.”

“Beautiful, too,” Matt said with a stubborn pout.

“Okay, then,” Foggy ran a hand through Matt’s messy hair. “If so, why don’t you tell me in detail exactly how gorgeous I am?”

“That’s all I want. Lie down, I’ll be back in a minute.” 

He got up and left the room. Foggy climbed onto the bed, not caring to get his clothes in order, and waited, listening to the clatter in the kitchen. When Matt returned, he was holding a bottle of beer and the white box that turned out to be full of donut holes.

“So, we’re having pastries, beer and sex?” Foggy asked.

“You are out of tea, what can I do. And yes.”

He crawled up to Foggy and put the box at his side.

“I’ll get crumbs on the bed and you’ll get grumpy.”

“These are fresh. There won’t be crumbs.”

He held a donut hole to Foggy’s lips, but a sudden idea made Foggy laugh instead of eating it.

“Wait, did you buy them in the middle of the night, wearing your costume? Where? Where do you keep money??? Don’t tell me you stole them from some poor baker, oh my god.”

“I didn’t steal them!” Matt snapped. “Remember Maria’s bakery?”

“Yeah, the one we helped to avoid a takeover a couple months ago?”

“Yes. If you remember, they received threats of violence. I had to intervene. Sometimes when I swing by at night, Maria offers me a treat.”

“Well, if anything, I’m glad someone else but me makes sure that you eat. Now give me that donut hole!”

Matt grinned, clung to him, and fed him one, two, three bits. After every bite he would lean in to give Foggy an equally sweet kiss. His hand kept roaming all over Foggy’s body, rubbing small circles on his belly, caressing the sensitive ticklish skin on Foggy’s sides, until Foggy begged for mercy and some beer to wash down the extra sweetness. 

“So, where’s the ode to me?” he asked, half of the box in and pleasantly full.

Matt smiled at him, a nice, happy, dopey smile that always rendered Foggy defenseless. He sat up and slowly took off Foggy’s T-shirt and pants, punctuating his actions with kisses.

“I told you, I don’t really understand beauty the way most people do? Some things feel good to me. Pleasant or soothing. These are my criteria. And you just… you are sensory bliss, Foggy.”

He pulled Foggy’s briefs off, then kicked off his own underwear and settled between Foggy’s thighs.

“I think, at the heart of it, it’s just who you are. You are kind to me, you are warm, and this is all of you. I don’t know how to put it in words right,” Matt shook his head. “Your voice is so soothing. It vibrates through the air and through me like a calm tune. Your hair is long and lank, and when it runs through my fingers, I can feel the texture of it. It’s rich. Your skin feels better than any silk, not as dry, smooth and warm.”

He petted Foggy’s thighs, somehow both gentle and hungry, and Foggy didn’t hold back a moan, having long learned that Matt liked to hear him.

“I am getting convinced,” he said, trying for light, but it came out a little too intense, because at that point he was getting seriously worked up. “What about my glorious chub?”

“Oh, the glorious chub,” Matt’s fingers ran over Foggy’s belly, inner thighs, squeezed his love handles and stopped to rest over his lower ribs. “It’s soft. Your body is like a cradle, kind, like your heart. When I hold you, I feel home.”

He leaned to kiss Foggy’s stomach and touched his boobs, making him pant and keen.

“I guess it’s just a little strange to me, even after all this time, that someone as fit and pretty as you would be into a chubby guy like me,” Foggy said and pulled at Matt’s shoulders to make him come up for a kiss.

Matt shrugged a little.

“My body is just instrumental. It’s good for what I do… and that’s about it. But you… you were made for kindness and love. Your body was made for pleasure.”

The last crumbs of self control that Foggy still had disappeared after those last words, because how are you supposed to keep your cool when someone talks to you like this?.. He felt loved and cherished in Matt’s arms. Adored and thoroughly explored. 

“Matty,” he whispered and tugged, urgent, to get Matt to press closer. “Come here”.

Matt laid down on top of him, wrapped around him like a vine and sighed:

“Yes. Like this.”

They stayed that way for a bit, tangled together, naked, kissing and rubbing against each other and desperate to get closer still.

“I wanna make love to you,” Matt said into Foggy’s mouth, straight into his lungs.

Foggy wanted to say something like “yes, please”, which somehow came out as a long wheezy whimper; but Matt understood him anyway, because he reached over to find lube and condoms (conveniently close at hand, thank heavens) and was back in a moment, circling a cold, slick finger over Foggy’s hole, coaxing him open. He kissed Foggy’s thighs, licked his balls, then took his cock into his ridiculously red, obscene mouth and sucked him to full mast. His free hand rubbed Foggy’s belly, fingered his navel in the same rhythm as he pushed into him, coating his entrance and inner walls with lube.

“Ahhh, Matty… yes, there,” Foggy breathed when Matt added the second finger and brought in even more lube, hit his prostate and left him feeling achingly open. “Come on, enter me - ah!”

Matt sat up to roll the condom over himself, giving Foggy the chance to catch his breath and admire how beautiful Matt looked, a painted silhouette in the dim orange light of the alleyway lamps outside. He turned his head to face Foggy, eyes trying to meet his and falling just a little short. Knowing that Matt somehow both couldn’t see him, and yet could, more profoundly than anyone ever, made Foggy feel vulnerable and transparent.

Matt spread lube over his cock, then Foggy’s, then both of their bellies, stopping to massage the knot of fullness in his pastry-stuffed stomach.

“You like it when I’m full, don’t you,” Foggy said, arching his back into the touch.

“I do. Because you like it.”

“Oh?”

“You are always in a better mood after you’ve eaten,” Matt continued, still rubbing Foggy’s belly, aligning their hips and pressing the hot tip of his cock to Foggy’s hole but not pushing in yet. “Your stomach is heavier and warmer when you are full. You like to have it touched.”

Foggy moaned and pushed, to open up and make Matt fuck him in earnest, at last. Matt entered him, big and burning inside him; thrusted slow and deep at first, then started to move shorter and faster. His face was red and sweaty, he looked just as frenzied, ignited as Foggy felt. Matt hoisted Foggy’s legs up and lowered onto him carefully. They shook together, tight and desperate, Foggy’s cock trapped and sliding between their oily stomachs.

“You are beautiful,” Matt kept chanting, “gorgeous, extraordinary, amazing, I love you…”

Foggy could only take so much of this before he came gasping Matt’s name, messy all over them, clenched around Matt, and wrought a loud orgasm out of him.

It took several minutes to catch their breaths and disjoin, feel separate enough to stop kissing for longer than a moment. They rested awhile, still too lazy to clean up, and shared the warm beer, passing the bottle, passing the bitter aftertaste between their mouths, disgusting and perfect.

“Will you go shopping with me and Karen?” Foggy asked.

“Of course. Saturday is the date,” Matt cuddled closer and smiled.

“We’ll get you red booty shorts. To show off your assets,” Foggy added and earned a shove in the side. “What? Our firm is small and poor, but we do have assets!”

“And we’ll get you a fashionable crop top,” Matt said. 

“And I will rock it,” Foggy agreed. “Everybody will be smitten.”

“Their heads will turn and heartbeats will grow fast and frantic. I’ll have to make sure they all know you are taken. That you are mine.”

Despite just having come that sounded really fucking exciting.

“You know how I feel about you being possessive, Matthew.”

“Yes, I do,” Matt purred, rolled towards him and sucked a long, bruising kiss on Foggy’s neck. “You are beautiful and you are mine.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> ok, full disclosure - most of the anglophonic articles on crop tops i saw were very delicate and judgement-free (kudos, english-speaking internet!), so I had to dramatize a little. However, my browsing through the articles in my first langage went pretty much exactly like Foggy's in the fic, so I was drawing on my own experience.


End file.
